


No More Missing You At Night

by Kerkerian



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e08 Ka Hana Malu (Inside Job), Friends to Lovers, Humour, M/M, Some Fluff, divergence from canon, mcdanno, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: On the day of Aunt Deb's wedding, not too long after Steve was abducted and tortured by Wo Fat, Steve and Danny stay behind at the hotel bar once the party is over. Things develop from there (don't blame the whisky, though!)...





	No More Missing You At Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Five-0.
> 
> In canon, Marco Reyes happens before Wo Fat abducted and was killed by Steve; I twisted the timeline around in this one.

 

Considering the circumstances of Aunt Deb's wedding, no one is surprised that the party peters out around eleven. Once the bride and groom have left the premises, their guests begin to take off as well, and it doesn't take long until the ballroom is empty.

After saying goodbye to Chin, Danny spots Steve at the bar where he's sitting in his tux like James Bond winding down after a mission, bow tie undone, glass in hand.

He's been brave all evening, the big goof, putting on a happy face for his aunt and making it look convincing, but Danny knows Steve. So he slides onto the bar stool next to him: “Hey, Babe. Having a nightcap?”

“Yep.” Steve empties his glass, grimacing minutely: “They've got some seriously awesome whisky here.”

Danny glances at his partner, at the healing but still visible lesions on his face, courtesy of Wo Fat, and sits down next to him, ordering two more when the barkeeper asks what he'd like.

“You did well tonight,” he says quietly.

Steve turns to look at him with one eyebrow raised: “How so?”

“You didn't let her see how you're really feeling about all this.”

Steve stares at Danny for a moment, then he sags: “I thought no one noticed.”

“I don't think anyone else did.”

At that, Steve gives an amused snort, and Danny wonders how much whisky he's already had: “'Course you did.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Steve pats Danny's arm. “Just that you're looking out for me. It's good.”

“I'm always looking out for you, you jerk,” Danny mutters; in fact, Steve is what usually preoccupies him most, apart from Grace.

Steve, who was about to raise his glass, puts it down again, regarding his partner: “I know you do, Danno,” he says with a little more sobriety.

Danny purses his lips: “'kay.”

They clink their glasses together and drink; Steve was right, it is a damn good whisky.

“So why does it bother you so much? Because of Leonard and the mysterious box?”

Steve contemplates this: “Nah. He seems a decent enough guy. It's just...” He puts his glass down and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers: “Aunt Deb told me that she's doing quite well at the moment. But the wedding on such a short notice... It just made it so fucking clear how little time she may have left. That every moment counts, and it won't be long until it's only Mary and me.” His voice was barely audible at the last words.

Silently, Danny puts his hand between Steve's shoulder blades for a moment, rubbing up and down with gentle movements; through the layers of cloth, he can feel the other's spine, forcefully reminding him of Steve's vulnerable side. Not too long ago, he was abducted and tortured, and Danny won't forget the expression on his face after they found him, the obvious frailty. It's haunting him sometimes when he can't sleep or whenever Steve is being too reckless once more. It was the first time he heard his partner cry, and that degree of despair is something he also never wants Steve to experience again. He knows, of course he does, that this wish is futile because life isn't so kind, but he hates that he can't protect his partner from all the things that hurt him.

“I'm sorry,” he says, not even certain if he means Aunt Deb or all that Steve's been through or both.

Steve glances at him again, lifts his free hand and strokes over Danny's jaw with the back of his fingers once, a thoughtless gesture apparently but heart-breakingly sweet nevertheless. In moments like these Danny can't but wonder how Steve would have turned out if his life hadn't been interrupted by grief and turmoil.

“Me too,” Steve now mutters, signaling the bartender once more.

 

They down the next round without talking, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Are you sleeping?” Danny then asks because he knows for a fact that Steve was plagued by severe nightmares after his last round with Wo Fat; once he was released from the hospital, Danny spent his nights on Steve's couch for a week, more often than not trudging up the stairs groggily at one point to wake his partner up.

It didn't matter that Steve sometimes fought him at first, he'd grab him and put his weight in until Steve was alert enough to recognize his surroundings, always staring at his partner with what Danny will forever remember as 'confused puppy look'. It was heart-rendering and strangely intimate and something he kept thinking about in the following weeks. And Steve never complained about this intrusion of his privacy, on the contrary. Sometimes, he held on to Danny until he stopped trembling, just the two of them in the quiet semi-darkness of his bedroom.

Nice, if Danny was honest with himself; something he could get used to.

Somehow though, they went back to their former routine once Steve was back at work, and then Colombia happened. And Steve did stay with Danny after they brought Matty's remains home; Danny however wasn't able to think straight back then, and he didn't sleep. So Steve just kept him company, forced him to eat and drink and helped with the paperwork.

In New Jersey, a few days later, Danny found that he missed his quiet presence, but he couldn't take his phone and make the call because talking was too difficult at the time. After his return, Steve found him at his favourite spot and they did talk, but after that, Danny refused to let anyone address the topic because he needed to be able to get through the days, needed a regulated day-to-day routine, which their job provided most of the time, even if Five-0's routine included the occasional explosion and frequent shoot-outs.

“I am.” Steve now looks at him again: “But you ain't.”

Danny avoids his gaze, tracing the rim of his glass with his finger: “Trying to,” he mutters, and it's true, but his brother's death and Marco Reyes are a heavy weight on him, suffocating him especially in the quiet hours of the night. He's tried sleeping pills, but he doesn't like how they are making him feel, and apart from that, he's a cop and a father, he needs to be alert at all times. Which isn't easy when one's tired, but he still prefers tired to sluggish.

“You look tired, Danno. And you look sad when you think no one is watching you,” Steve now says softly, and his tone is so sympathetic and gentle, so caring that Danny feels something hot behind his eyes. He closes them for a moment while his heart contracts with a craving that is familiar and at the same time unsettling: he wants for everything to be alright, just for a moment, just for how long it takes to feel like himself again.

He is aware that Steve can't give him that, can't bring Matty back to life, or Reyes, for that matter, but it's immensely comforting to know that Steve can relate, is having his back in all this.

Danny's memories of the flight back from Colombia and the following days are a bit foggy, but the one thing he does recall with clarity is Steve's steadfast patience and kindness. He can be a tough ass, but he's also one of the most considerate people Danny knows.

The way he looks at his partner now is further proof of that- his expression is fond and a smidgen concerned. Always prepared to save others, Danny thinks, unaware that he is smiling a little bit if painedly as he finally returns Steve's gaze, or that his eyes are swimming.

Without any ado, Steve winds his arm around Danny, pulling him a bit closer: “It's been rough, huh,” he mutters, at which Danny only nods, sniffing as he tries to keep it together, but leaning into his partner a little nevertheless.

Damn whisky. Damn McGarrett and his... Steveness. He didn't expect for the evening to end all maudlin at the hotel bar, but apparently, this is where they're headed.

“Gah,” he therefore says, blinking and sniffing and rubbing at his eyes: “I hate this.”

Steve holds up his finger for another round, then he gives Danny's shoulder a squeeze before pulling back: “Best to let it out once in a while.”

“That's what my mom says whenever she's driving,” Danny mutters. “You wouldn't believe the swear-words she uses! Gotta cover Gracie's ears every time.”

Steve opens his mouth, looking as though he wants to say something, but closes it again.

Danny narrows his eyes: “I don't swear in the car, Steven, in case you just wanted to add a witty one-liner about how it's running in the family or something.”

Steve manages to look supremely innocent: “I didn't- just wanted to say it's hard to imagine your mom doing that.”

Danny scrunches up his nose at him: “Yeah, right.”

Steve grins, taking his fresh glass: “To your mom and her potty mouth.”

 

Half an hour later, things seem to be looking up.

Steve and Danny are playing a game, putting their respective coasters on the edge of the bar and pushing them up with the back of their fingers quickly enough so that they turn in the air, subsequently trying to catch them before they hit the wooden surface again.

“Aw, Babe, you made me drop it,” Danny complains.

“I didn't make you do anything,” Steve says indignantly.

“You gave me a little push.”

“Your aim was off, I was just being nice. I'm a nice person.”

“You tried to cheat.”

“Now that's where you're wrong for two reasons,” Steve argues, holding up his hand. “One, I'm better than you at this anyway, and two, I'm nice.”

“That's three fingers.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, no. That's two fingers and my thumb.”

“Two fingers plus your thumb makes three.”

“The thumb just happened to be there.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny's too buzzed to follow this logic.

“What was I saying- ah. Nice, and lovable.” Now Steve grins in that goofy way of his, and Danny shakes his head: “You're drunk, that's what you are. _And_ you're not better than me at this.”

“But you love me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I rest my case.”

“Yeah well, that's not the point.”

“What's the point then?”

“The point is,” Danny says, momentarily distracted by Steve's dimples, “the point is. The point is you cheated.”

“Doesn't matter. Point is you love me.”

“Point is you cheated nevertheless.”

“That's just making me even more lovable.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm adorable when I'm miss... mischievous.”

“That's true,” Danny hears himself say, and his suddenly somersaulting stomach agrees. “You with your goofy smile.”

Steve snickers: “Goofy. I always liked Goofy.”

Danny thinks that somehow, he's now missing the actual point here. Or the elephant in the room, but he's distracted from these musings when Steve takes a second coaster: “Let's try a double decker, shall we?”

 

Another half hour later, the coasters are lying on the floor and the mood has turned maudlin again.

“At least your mother's around. I'd have taken the swearing over her absence any time,” Steve mutters.

Danny snorts:“At least your sister didn't steal eighteen and a half million dollars from a drug lord and got herself killed.”

“Touché.”

Danny's tired now; he puts his arms on the bar and is just about to rest his head on them when Steve turns towards him once more: “Danno.”

“Huh?”

“Sometimes I wake up in the night and I miss you.”

Danny doesn't know what to say because of all the things Steve could have told him, this is the one he expected the least. Probably.

“Huh,” he eventually manages; at least he's wide awake again now. His brain is rather muzzy however, making it hard to think. And now Steve leans over until his face is directly in front of Danny's, almost in nose-touching distance: “Was that me being too straight-forward again?”

“No,” Danny's says and it's his muzzy brain alone which is responsible for this, “I think that was you being sweet.”

Beaming, Steve sits up again: “Told ya.”

And Danny's heart is beating rapidly at that.

 

They end up at Steve's house.

The bartender cut them off for their own sake after their last round and ordered them a taxi, and Steve, the bastard, only gave the driver his own address, which Danny didn't realize until the car stopped.

He groaned: “Now I'll have to go all the way back.”

“Jus' stay here,” Steve said, pulling at Danny's sleeve. “I'll make pancakes for breakfast.”

“You? You don't even know how,” Danny retorted, but scrambled out of the car nevertheless.

Since neither of them was capable of walking in a straight line anymore, they held on to one another while they made their way to the house. Once they were inside, Steve stopped abruptly to deactivate the alarm, never letting go of Danny, who turned around to him too fast; his momentum all but propelled him against his partner. Snickering, his straightened up while Steve steadied him with his free hand, and Danny found that he didn't mind. In fact, when Steve turned back to him and their gazes met, they froze.

And now they're standing in front of one another, too close and not close enough, and Danny's heart is beating wildly again and Steve's got that fond, overly goofy expression that means he's proud of or very possibly head over heels in love with someone. Danny's stomach is somersaulting once more; he hopes it's the latter.

“It won't only be Mary and you, Babe,” he mutters because he's been wanting to say that all night and to make sure Steve understands what's on offer here.

Steve breathes heavily through his nose as he cups Danny's neck with his hand, gently caressing his skin with his thumb in a way that makes his knee weak: “You're sweet, too,” he breathes. “I'mma kiss you now.”

He tastes like whisky and he kisses even better than Danny imagined.

“You know,” he manages at one point as they come up for air, “I like it when you're being straightforward like this.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs against his lips, “it's just as I said- best to let it out once in a while.”

 

On the following morning, Danny slowly comes to awareness with no immediate recollection of what happened. The first things that register are that his head feels as though it's been stuck in a screw clamp, that he's vaguely queasy and there's a noticeable and rather sour odour of alcohol in the air. But he also feels surprisingly comfortable considering his hangover, wrapped into Steve's embrace with his warm, solid body pressed up against his own.

 _Steve's_... He almost flinches when the realization hits. He's in Steve's bed, and they're almost naked, and it feels amazing. Immediately, the somersaults are back, which isn't exactly conducive to his queasiness, and for a moment he panics, on the verge of flailing, when he feels Steve stir. Nano-seconds later, his partner's arms around him tighten, and then Steve nuzzles his neck. _Nuzzles_ , his stubble scraping over his skin so delicately that Danny can't but shiver, and when he speaks, his voice is gravelly and soft: “Your skin's so soft.”

Danny blinks: why is Steve so calm? Doesn't he realize what they've done (well, supposedly done because Danny's still drawing a blank as to what exactly happened, and they're at least wearing their boxers, after all)?

Apparently not, because now his hand wanders from Danny's arm to his face, gently caressing his jaw: “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Somersaults and confusion are what Danny's world is reduced to for a moment.

“That's all?” he eventually manages to croak. “Nothing else you wanna say, maybe?”

“Good morning?”

“Good morning? Good morning he says,” Danny mutters while he pushes at Steve's arms until he can turn around. “Good morning, as if this was normal, as if we woke up in bed with each other on any given day!”

Steve's face is amused: “Danno,” he tries, but Danny's on a roll now: “In case you haven't noticed: we were drunk, we didn't know what we were doing, and this is not a normal way to wake up! I don't even know how you're so calm! How are you so calm?”

“Danno,” Steve repeats, with more force this time though his expression didn't change. Bastard. “I did know what I was doing.”

Danny stares at him: “You-”

Steve quickly interrupts him before he can work himself up even further: “Didn't you sort of see this coming?”

This does it. Danny closes his mouth and remains silent, apparently at a loss of what to say. Steve regards him with a fond expression, raising his hand to his face again and cupping his cheek: “Danny? You okay?”

“Am I okay?” To his horror, Danny is now babbling. “I dunno. Are you okay?”

Steve beams at him: “I am! More than okay, actually. I'm glad this happened.”

At that, Danny blushes adoringly: “What- I don't remember-”

“We passed out before anything could happen,” Steve says, still beaming. “But we kissed, and I got to undress you.”

Now Danny's ears turn pink.

“Steve,” he begins, “I'm... okay, yeah, maybe I did see this coming... sorta... one day... but we didn't even go on a proper date and now this...”

Steve's bright smile turns into a more serious one as he beholds his partner. “It could count as one though,” he says gently. “We danced, we had some great food and we had fun, didn't we?”

“If you put it that way...,” Danny concedes feebly. Steve's gaze is so openly affectionate that his consternation is already dissolving. “It's moving a bit quicker than I'm used to.”

The corners of Steve's mouth quirk upwards a little more: “We can remedy that. I'll take you out to dinner if you like.”

Danny studies him, tries to discern whether Steve's sobered up enough to actually realize what he's saying, but there's so much warmth in his gaze, and he's sneakily wound his arm around him again in the meantime, resting his warm hand on the small of his back. Which feels good, and Danny, who's been rather touch-starved for the past few years, is enjoying it tremendously, even finding that he wants more.

“So this isn't just a drunken one-off? We're really doing this?” he therefore asks, just to be sure.

“We are,” Steve confirms, his eyes sparkling, and then he's pulling Danny closer and kisses him, and Danny pretty much gives up worrying about it after that. He doesn't even feel queasy anymore.

“I want this to be a normal way to wake up,” Steve tells him later, as they're lying wrapped around one another, “it's the best sleep I've had in ages, and I don't think it's down to the whisky.”

Danny pushes his leg between Steve's, inhaling his warm, familiar scent and wholeheartedly agrees.

“Chasing each other's demons away, huh?” he mutters, pressing a soft kiss on Steve's chest.

“Maybe.” He can feel Steve nuzzling his forehead, the warm, humid puffs of air on his skin as he breathes. “Even without that, though,” Steve continues. “I felt drawn to you from the first moment on. You made me feel cared for, and safe.”

Danny smiles: “ _I_ made _you_ feel safe? Aren't you Mr Death-on-legs who can kill people with his pinky?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies after a moment. “But I still need grounding from time to time. Someone to keep me right.” _Home_ , he thinks, though he doesn't say it. _You feel like home_.

“Yeah, that's true Babe, you do,” Danny quips. “Well, then, at your service.”

Steve raises his hand and runs it over his partner's back: “Danno?”

“Hm?”

“Is it too early to say that I love you?”

“You're saying it all the time.”

“I know. But it's not what I mean. I mean the I love you I love you. The real thing.”

Danny shifts and supports himself on his elbow so that he can look at Steve: “It felt pretty real to me before, Babe.”

Steve, who falls in love with him all over again right in this moment, gently tugs at him until he's close enough for kissing: “It was real,” he murmurs, gaze roaming over Danny's beloved features. “And it's still growing. I love you so much, Danno.”

Danny sighs into the kiss because of the somersaults which his stomach is starting up with again at these words, and because of the tight knot of unpent emotions he's been carrying around for years and which is now coming undone, causing him to tremble and smile uncontrollably: “I love you too, Steve,” he all but whispers, tasting the words on his tongue. Amazing.

 

That evening, they meet up with Aunt Deb and her husband for dinner; the newlyweds are going to Maui for their honeymoon on the following day before heading back to the mainland.

When they're saying their goodbyes, Deb pulls Steve into a tight embrace: “You're both glowing today,” she whispers in his ear even though they didn't say anything about the sudden change in their relationship, not wanting to steal Deb's and Leonard's thunder, “I'm very happy for you.”

Steve pulls back and can't but return her smile: “Thanks,” he replies in a low voice. “It just kinda happened last night.”

Deb's smile deepens: “He's good people, your Danno,” she says.

“Yeah,” Steve glances at his partner, who's talking to Leonard. “You and I are both very lucky, aren't we?”

“We are, my darling,” his aunt agrees, patting his arm. “We are.”

 

 

The End

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
